A Pulitzer Prize Means Nothing When You're Dead
by Cat8
Summary: Nigel meets the girl of his dreams, but will he be able to help them both come to terms with her past.


I

t was a hot summer morning in Boston, one of very few, at least the hottest in recent record, as Kat walked through the glass doors etched with the word 'Morgue'.  Normally, she would have been creeped out by something like this, but she wasn't there to write a piece about a dead guy, she hadn't written something like that in years.  No, she was walking into the Coroner's office that day to write an upbeat piece on the new Chief Medical Examiner, a little late since he had been instated back in December, but no one had wanted to write the piece until now.  Her editor had placed her on the entertainment beat when she had arrived back in November, mainly because she hadn't wanted to do the 'hard core news', but better late than never she always said.

There had been no one at the reception desk, so she had showed herself in and began wandering around, hoping to bump into Dr. Macy.  Walking into the first set of unlocked double doors she came across without a dead body behind it, a tall, dark-haired man looked up from his microscope with a smile.  "Can I help you?"  He said in British accent.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, there was no one at reception.  I was just looking for Dr. Macy."  Kat went to leave.

"Wait, you didn't disturb me at all.  Are you here to claim a body?"  A solemn look replaced his warm and sparkling smile.

A small laugh escaped, and she instantly felt a blush rising up in her cheeks.  "Not unless you've got my career packed into one of your freezers."  She shook her head as she extended her hand.  "Kat Dale.  I'm here from the Boston Post to do an article on the new Chief M.E."  She saw a quip coming from the rather ravishing man in front of her.  "I know, I know, it's a little late, but my editor's had me covering new store openings until he got tired of me asking to write this story."

"I'm sorry, but you wanted to write a story about a new coroner?"  The look of confusion mixed with intrigue was priceless.

"Yes, I only write, for lack of a better term, 'feel good' stories.  My philosophy has always been that there are enough bad things that happen to people in their own lives, why should they only read about the bad things that happen to other people.  It tends to take away hope.  I'm sorry, I don't mean to be blunt."

"Not at all, I know exactly what you're talking about.  By the way," he extended his hand once more, "the name's Nigel."

"Good to meet you, Nigel."

"Good to meet you as well, Kat."  Nigel smiled as he took in all of her beauty.  Her brown hair, which appeared quite long, was pulled up into a tight ponytail that rested on the top of her head and hung down to her shoulders, and she had the most dazzling blue eyes he had ever seen.  "Well," he stopped himself from falling any further into those deep blue seas, "I think Dr. Macy is in an autopsy right now, but I can show you to him if you'd like."

Kat put up her hands.  "Uh, no, thanks.  I'm not very good with blood, if you know what I mean.  Actually, if you don't mind, I can start with you."

"With me?"  The look of confusion mixed with intrigue returned.

"Yes, with you.  I don't want the party line.  I want to know what Dr. Macy is really like when he's not cutting up dead people."  She chuckled slightly again.

"Oh, you want me to dish the dirt, right?  Like about how he likes to sleep in the crypt every fourth Thursday of the month?"  He watched with glee as her eyes lit up and her jaw dropped open.

"Does he do that?"

"No, but that's the kind of freakish stuff your looking for, right?"

There was a childish manner to him that instantly caught her by surprise, but she was somehow drawn to, though she always loved a man with a great sense of humor, and a nice healthy head of thick dark hair, of which Nigel had both.  "Actually, no.  I'm just looking for the type of person that he is.  We can leave his freaking personal habits behind closed doors where they belong."

"Right then, where to you want to start?"  The smile instantly returned to his face as Nigel looked over at the amazingly beautiful woman pulling out a notebook from her bag.

"Well," Kat smiled again as she closed her notebook about ten minutes later, "I think that should cover it."

Just then, the doors to Nigel's office swung open violently and a vibrant woman with long brown hair came in like a tornado.  "Nige, you got a minute?"  Then she saw Kat sitting on the opposite table.  "Oh, I guess not.  I'm really sorry to interrupt."

"No, not at all, we were just finishing up."  Kat hopped down and extended her hand.  "Kat Dale of the Boston Globe.  You must be the Jordan Nigel's been talking so much about."

"Yes, I am, Doctor Jordan Cavanaugh."  There was a confused look that came over her face.  "I'm sorry, but what is a Boston Globe reporter doing here and how did you get in?"

There was an instant threat here, maybe defense, that Kat couldn't understand unless this Jordan lady was involved with Nigel outside of work, at which point, he was off limits and she could respect that.  "You mean besides the fact that there was no one at the front desk and I carry one of these?"  She flashed her Press Pass.  "I'm writing a story on the new M.E. and would like to get the opinion of him from his staff.  I hear you guys are like a real family here and I want to convey that to the readers."

The look faded and Jordan relaxed.  "OK, you've written a column for 'The New Yorker', right?  You only write 'touchy feely' stories."

"Yes, I only write about the good things that happen in life, and usually get buried somewhere between the obits and the classifieds, but yes, that's me.  I would appreciate it if I could talk with you as well."

"Yeah, in a minute, but I really need to steal Nige here for a case that I just snagged."

"Mind if I watch what you do?"

"Not at all."  Nigel smiled again as Kat hopped back onto the table.  "There's nothing here that I can work with Jordan, I'm sorry."  He said after staring at the shirt on the table for a while.  "No hair, no fiber, not even dust, just dirt, but I can run that if you'd like."

"Nah, we found her in the park wrapped in this blanket.  The dirt's probably from there.  No ID, no nothing, except designer labels on her clothes."  Jordan shook her head in defeat, only to be shocked by the reporter's idea.

"You know, Dr. Macy has been the M.E. since December and no one has missed being introduced to him, so maybe I could write a story about this girl and see if I can't get it run on the front page.  A little media attention never really hurt."  Kat sheepishly intervened and watched as Jordan's face lit up.

"Yeah, that might just work.  In fact, that's perfect.  Great, thanks Kat."

"You're welcome.  Just let me run it by my editor.  It's been more than a little while since I've written a front page article, I don't quite know how he's going to take it."

"Hey, as long as the information gets out there.  The clocks ticking for a pauper's grave."  Jordan grinned.  "Thanks again."

"Not a problem."  Kat smiled then looked back at Nigel.  "You can really pinpoint dirt?"

"As crazy as that sounds, yes.  You see, dirt from different areas around the city has a different chemical makeup.  With those characteristics, I can tell you which area of the city the dirt came from, and match samples to evidence."  He laughed.  "And you don't care about anything I just said."

"Actually," she laughed slightly as she felt herself blush, "only slightly.  Look, I have to get back to the paper and pitch this idea to my editor.  It was really nice to meet you, Nigel."  She extended her hand.

"Good to meet you as well, Kat.  Um," he stammered, "will you be back?"

"Oh, of course, I have to research this story fully before sitting down to write this story.  I'll catch you later?"

"I'll be right here."  Nigel smiled as she walked out.

"You've got your front page, Dr. Cavanaugh."  Kat walked back into the morgue about an hour later to find Nigel and Jordan both standing over the body of their Jane Doe and her smile instantly faded as her head began to spin.  "Whoa."  She stumbled backwards only to bump into another dead body.  "Oh God."

"Kat, you alright?"  Nigel asked as he watched the beautiful young woman turn white as a sheet and begin to lose her balance.  "Hold on there, I've got you."  Reaching out, he took her into his arms and helped her to the floor.  "No worries, it'll pass.  Just take deep breaths and concentrate on me.  We wouldn't want you passing out on us, now would we."  He smiled as he saw the color slowing returning to her magnificently smooth cheeks.  "You alright now?"

"Yeah, I think so."  She smiled slightly.  "Thank you, Nigel.  I guess it's just been a really long time since I've hung out in a morgue."  Although she probably could have done it herself, she allowed the lanky Brit to help her to her feet.  "Thanks again."  Feeling another blush rising up in her cheeks, she just smiled.  "So, give me the run down, I've got a six o'clock deadline to write five hundred words or more."

The trio worked at a frenzied pace for the next few hours before Kat sat down in the conference room with her laptop and banged out a very rough draft.  After making two word changes, the story was e-mailed to her editor and she was back on the front page of the morning edition.  Both Nigel and Jordan were ecstatic and expected her to be, but Kat wasn't so sure this was where she wanted to be.  Yes, her heart still raced and her fingers still flew over the keyboard, and after her initial bout, she became more comfortable with the corpse, but there had been a reason she had quit being a front page writer, and she wondered if this adrenaline rush was really worth it.

"You want to go celebrate with a beer?"  Nigel asked, pulling her out of her introspective fog.

"You know what, a beer would really work about now."  She smiled and gladly rode with him and Jordan to a local pub, apparently owned by Jordan's father, considering the announcement that was made as they walked in.  An announcement, Kat had really wished had not been made.

"Hey, Dad, I'd like you to meet the writer of the front page of tomorrow's Boston Post.  The woman who is going to solve this case for us, Kat Dale."

Kat just smiled and nodded politely as everyone came up to shake her hand, but she quickly grabbed her pint and a corner table, but Nigel wouldn't let her disappear completely.

"Hey, for someone who just made a lot of other reporters green with envy, you don't look all that happy.  You OK?"

She had to smile.  "Kinda, it's just been awhile since I've seen my name on a byline on the front page."

"Hey, Kat, you did a great thing today.  This girl was destined to end up in a pauper's grave, but you're helping us find her parents, her home.  That's something to smile about."

"Except that I'm the one who told the parents that their daughter is dead through a cold newspaper.  Nigel, I've done this too much to actually feel like I've done anything good, I've done what had to be done, that's it."

"I've had to tell my share of families their loved ones were gone, but it actually helps with the healing process.  At least they aren't sitting and worrying at home, at least now they know, they're able to say goodbye."  He saw a single tear run down her cheek and he gently wiped it away, tenderly caressing her face before feeling the undeniable pull and kissing her.

As their lips met, it wasn't in her to fight him.  His warm lips pressed softly against hers actually made her feel a little better and took her mind off everything.  Suddenly the rest of the world fell away and there was nothing else besides that kiss, and no other people in all of creation besides them.  "Thank you."  She said softly as they broke.

"Come on, let me take you home."  Nigel simply smiled as he helped her to her feet and escorted her back to her apartment.  "I want to see you again, Kat."  He almost whispered as they stood outside of her door.

"I want to see you again as well, Nigel.  I like who I become when you're around."

He was a bit stunned.  "Kat, I don't think I have anything to do with who you are, since you're close to perfection, but I thank you for the compliment."  A nervous laugh arose.  "Would you mind terribly if I were to call you tomorrow?"

"Not at all."  Pulling out her business card, she scribbled her home and cell phone numbers on the back before placing it in his hand and lightly kissing his warm lips again.  "Good Night."

"Night."  Nigel smiled as he watched her slowly enter her apartment and close the door.  "Sleep well, My Angel."

The paper was kind enough to send a stack of papers not only to her apartment, but to the Morgue as well.  A story about a woman's death with her byline was really not what she wanted to read about in the morning.  Too make matters worse, her editor called and told her he wanted a follow-up story for the next morning's edition, that she had scooped the rest of the papers in the city, and he admired her work.  It was when he asked her if she wanted the coveted city beat that she froze.  It had been years, seven years to be exact, since she had covered any major news story, and she wasn't so sure she wanted to cover another one again, but to turn him down would mean certain death to her career, and she wasn't really looking forward to moving again.  "Sure, that would be great.  Thanks, Chief, you won't regret this."  She feigned.

"I know I won't.  I was just wondering how long it was going to take you to ask me for it.  Kat, I've read your work from New York and Denver, why you felt you needed to write those puff pieces baffled me."

"Yeah, well, it's a long story that I'll save for my memoirs."  Kat faked a laugh before politely hanging up.  She made her way into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet.  There, in a velvet bag, waiting for her like a long lost friend, were her speed pills.  They'd helped her through the last time she'd been on the front page, but she'd kicked them after she'd left, but now...now she was going back and she wasn't so sure she could make it on her own.  Why in hell did she even keep them?  She'd been clean for seven years, were these babies even good?  There were two little white pills in her hand when the phone rang…


End file.
